<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>memories that made those days sublime by postfixrevolution</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702452">memories that made those days sublime</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/postfixrevolution/pseuds/postfixrevolution'>postfixrevolution</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Black Eagles Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Character Study, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Gen, Post Crimson Flower: Chapter 15, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), edelgard's lost item, foggy childhood memories</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:00:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702452</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/postfixrevolution/pseuds/postfixrevolution</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"Does that sadden you?" Edelgard asks.</p>
  <p>"What?"</p>
  <p>"That so much of your culture — your homeland — will only live on in relics and a fallen people."</p>
  <p>Felix turns his eyes away with a scoff, glaring again at the deep blue porcelain in her hands. </p>
  <p>"If this is a test, he sneers, "I've no interest in playing."</p>
</blockquote><p>Felix, Edelgard, and what it means to wage (and win) a war.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Felix Hugo Fraldarius &amp; Edelgard von Hresvelg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>memories that made those days sublime</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>written for <a href="https://twitter.com/lostfoundzine">lost &amp; found</a>, a charity zine focused on the lost items of the fe3h cast!</p><p>thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphemea">euphemea</a> for being such an amazing beta reader &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The air is thick with the smell of sulfur and smoke in the aftermath of Rhea's attack on Garreg Mach. The scent clings heavy to the courtyards just behind the main monastery walls, in the gardens where Byleth likes to take her former students to tea. Edelgard can smell it as she strolls briskly down the dilapidated paths, scanning the scattered tables for a familiar head of pale green hair. </p><p>The monastery is filled with passing streaks of polished steel and crimson armor. She and Hubert had reached a stopping point in their planning to march on Arianrhod, so Edelgard had taken it upon herself to search for the professor, half with the hopes of finding her and half for the opportunity to eke out what precious free time she could spare.</p><p>True to form, Edelgard finds Byleth in the courtyard, engrossed in a conversation with one of her former classmates. The winter air is crisp enough that Edelgard can see the way steam floats lazily up from the teacups before them, untouched by either soldier. She makes a quick turn toward the table, approaching just in time to see Byleth stand suddenly. Bidding her companion an apologetic farewell, she shoves something into his hands and darts off. </p><p>His eyes follow her with confusion that quickly melts into annoyance, lips twisted into a scowl as he watches Byleth go. With the way the frown lines burrow deep into his brows, Edelgard can't help but wonder if frowning might be his default expression. He glares down at whatever item the professor had left him as Edelgard approaches.</p><p>"Hello, Felix. Do you know where the professor was headed?" Edelgard asks. "There was something I needed to ask of her."</p><p>Hazel eyes widen when they land on her. Felix quickly blinks the surprise away, nodding in the direction of the monastery. His attention returns to whatever the professor had left him and Edelgard follows his gaze curiously, catching the briefest flash of deep blue between the worn leather of his gloves. The colour is out of place among the Adrestian scarlets that paint Garreg Mach, but so is he — dressed in teal and cream-coloured wool, warmer than the humid air in Enbarr could ever permit. </p><p>"We haven't spoken much since the professor returned," she notes. "Your hair used to be longer, if I remember correctly."</p><p>"It was. War doesn't leave much time for such frivolities."</p><p>Edelgard hums, reaching up to brush at the loose strands of her own hair. "Sometimes, we need a few such things to cling to, if only to keep ourselves sane... You look troubled. Was it something the professor had told you?"</p><p>"If I seem troubled, it's because of the professor being the professor, asking me for absurd favors." He clicks his tongue, turning over a gloved hand to show off the small item Byleth had left him. "She thought it was mine simply because it was made in Faerghus, then insisted I help find its owner when I said I didn't recognize it. I've better things to do than play lost and found with the toys she finds."</p><p>Edelgard's eyes widen at the sight. </p><p>"Wait— That's mine!"</p><p>Felix blinks, arching an eyebrow at her as she sits across from him. Wordlessly, he passes her the easter porcelain, watching as Edelgard carefully turns it over in her palms.</p><p>It's a rich Blaiddyd blue, latticed with silver lines of ivy and dotted with delicate gold cyclamens and chamomile flowers, mother-of-pearl adorning their centers. The base is gold, tapering in before it spills out into a large, rounded base. </p><p>"I haven't seen this since before the war broke out! I never thought I'd find it, let alone in one piece. It's amazing," she mutters, "how the smallest things can display such impossible tenacity."</p><p>"I'm surprised," he admits. "I didn't expect to find an owner at all. I'm one of the few here from Faerghus, and even then, Faerghan easter porcelain is a rare commodity. Only nobles owned it, venerating the useless ceramic more than their own people. Trinkets like this almost never left their estates — willingly, at least."</p><p>Lilac eyes flicker up, levelling Felix with an amused look. "A rare commodity indeed. Are you implying I acquired this illicitly?"</p><p>Felix scoffs, crossing his arms. "I'm not. Heirloom theft wasn't uncommon, even before war drove people to desperate extremes. Faerghus isn't a generous place and the people there are always left wanting. Thievery wasn't out of the ordinary. It helped," he scoffs, "that an active crime network fed the Kingdom's penchant for knights, too."</p><p>Edelgard tilts her head in agreement, a short laugh puffing past her lips. "It may surprise you, but I'm not unaware. I've done my fair share of study on Faerghus, but I've been there as well." Setting her easter porcelain down, Edelgard folds her fingers loosely around it, a faraway look in her eyes. "I don't remember much, but I recall how viciously cold the winters could be, especially as far north as the Kingdom's capital."</p><p>"So you've been to Fhirdiad," he notes, leaning forward with renewed interest. </p><p>"I have faint memories of it, yes. Time has dulled them considerably, but as someone who grew up in Adrestia, the memory of so bitter a cold isn't one that fades easily."</p><p>"That's odd," Felix hums, a slight laugh to his words. "I spent most of my childhood in Fhirdiad. You'd think I'd remember a visit from the Adrestian princess, but I guess your memories aren't the only ones that've faded. I don't care much about dwelling on the past — not much of it is worth remembering."</p><p>"I may not recall much, but I <em> am </em> certain that this porcelain was a gift. It's a shame I can't remember who gave it to me."</p><p>"I can't say I have an eye for this, but it almost feels...familiar. It's been years since I've seen one. They all blend together," he admits, scrutinizing it with a contemplative frown. "These days, something like this is only a relic of the past. The future we're fighting for will only see Faerghus buried deeper than it already is."</p><p>Edelgard studies him for a brief moment, tracing over the deep furrow of his brows. He looks deep in thought, hazel eyes glued to the winding gold lines that entrap the rich blue veneer of her porcelain. </p><p>"Does that sadden you?" </p><p>"What?"</p><p>"That so much of your culture — your homeland — will only live on in relics and a fallen people."</p><p>Felix turns his eyes away with a scoff, glaring again at the deep blue porcelain in her hands. </p><p>"If this is a test," he sneers, "I've no interest in playing. I've already fought your army's battles and bathed my blades in the blood of your enemies."</p><p>"I didn't intend it as a test," Edelgard reassures him, watching his lips twist as he attempts to hide his disbelief. "I recognize that it isn't easy, choosing to fight back against a set of values that everyone has told you is the only possible truth. I don't question your loyalty," she tells him, "and nor will I begrudge you your sadness."</p><p>"If that's the case, then you're asking questions you hardly need the answers for." Felix leans back in his seat, crossing his arms with a discontented sigh. "I'm not immune to emotion," he huffs, too quiet to have any real bite to it. "Far from it. And I'm not blind to what the world you envision means for Faerghus, either. Contrary to what you may think, growing up surrounded by Faerghus's foolish ideals doesn't make it any harder to fight back against them. I have my contentions about my homeland, but I doubt that's surprising. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."</p><p>"I suppose that makes sense. Whatever your contentions, I'm glad they led you to fight with us. It won't be a painless struggle, but even your sword helps to ease it."</p><p>Felix's frown loosens at the compliment, lips curling around an amused scoff. "Well, it helps having decent leadership, too. You'll have to forgive my wording, but you're an odd one." Edelgard arches a curious brow at him. "In Faerghus, loyalty to the crown is expected of anyone vying to be a soldier — a knight. Fighting and dying for the crown are all there is."</p><p>"The same could be said here," Edelgard offers. "I ask you and my soldiers for their lives, but even I can't guarantee the future you're fighting for."</p><p>"That's not it. You came to me asking how I felt about this war, even <em> thanked </em> me for my loyalty. What you said after the attack on Garreg Mach, about the blood spilled in the name of our future—"</p><p>"Lamentable," she interrupts him, staring down at her hands with a pained grimace. "If it's my own inability you seek to discuss—"</p><p>"It's not," Felix says. "Soldiers die. That's the nature of war. We would <em> celebrate </em>their deaths in Faerghus," he sighs, "when they died in service to the crown. It's clear that you've no desire to celebrate them here."</p><p>Edelgard pauses, trying to discern the look on Felix's face.</p><p>"And that bothers you?"</p><p>"Hmph, hardly. A kingdom that can look at dead men and find anything other than tragedy is a kingdom that will dig its own grave. Perhaps your envisioned future and the fate of Faerghus aren't so different, after all."</p><p>Edelgard looks at him, unable to fathom what it's like, being so convinced of the downfall of a place he once called home. The heavy sag of his shoulders as Felix sighs only gives her the briefest glimpse into the true weight of his burden. </p><p>"You think so much like a soldier," she notes, watching him lift his head to shoot her a confused glance. "In terms of all or nothing — victorious and defeated, strong and weak."</p><p>"We're at war. There's no other way to think."</p><p>She doesn't reply right away, loosening her grip on the porcelain to reach for Byleth's abandoned teacup. The ceramic is cold, and Edelgard absently wonders if she can reheat it to bring with her when she returns to Hubert and the professor. </p><p>"My goal was never to erase a people, but a system." She unhands the teacup and holds her easter porcelain, lifting it up so they can both see it. "I still remember <em>some </em>things about Faerghus. The winters are harsh, but the people are twice as strong and warm to face it. I remember the hands that gave me <em> this</em>: warm, but not yet hardened by years of arduous winters. A child like I was, trying to give me a piece of his home before I had to go back to mine."</p><p>Felix doesn't respond, and she smiles ruefully at the recollection, a sheepish laugh tumbling past her lips. </p><p>"I hope you'll forgive me for my nostalgia. It was one of my dearest memories of Faerghus. Learning how to dance between my history lessons, hearing the plucky rhythm of a Faerghan waltz for the first time in my life. There were other children there, learning with me, and the snow outside of the castle was finally beginning to melt. It was the first time there that I truly felt at home."</p><p>He deflates slowly, averted eyes taking on a far more somber shine as he listens. If Edelgard has this memory after a mere few months in Faerghus, she can only imagine the extent of what Felix carries in his own heart. </p><p>"And what does this have to do with the war?" he mutters eventually. Edelgard allows herself a small smile at his continued interest.</p><p>"I'm hardly the only one who seeks to unify Fódlan, but there is a reason why it must be me who does it. The Church only cares for a false peace, built upon blind faith in a deity and crest system that has done nothing but cause harm. Claude had good intentions, but he couldn't have known the struggles of Fódlan the way I have already seen them, both above and below its surface.</p><p>"My vision of the future doesn't belong solely to the Empire. It's my own, informed by my love for my home, its people, and what I've come to know of the people outside of it, too. This porcelain is a memento of fond memories not limited to Enbarr, and it reminds me to look away from the country itself to see its people and the valuable, resilient things that they have to offer."</p><p>"You speak quite highly of a country you're waging a war against." Felix arches an eyebrow at her, curiosity tinged with a note of challenge. With a quick hand, he takes the porcelain, turning it over in his hands. "Should I expect Faerghus to escape this war miraculously unscathed, then?"</p><p>"Faerghus is its people just as much as it is the systems that control them," she repartees, meeting his smirk with bright eyes. "You asked me earlier about what mindset one could have during war, except that of a soldier's. Once this fight ends and we establish peace, protecting it will be in my hands. Because of that, I can't allow myself to be limited. The outcomes you foresaw were a soldier's predictions, but the fondness you hold for your home isn't that same soldier's feelings. Even if our place now is to lead or fight, we can't forget that all of our efforts will be meaningless if we forget to think like those we struggle <em> for </em>." </p><p>"Our people," he mutters, looking up to meet her eye. </p><p>"Yes. We have to think like the citizens that we will live as and alongside after this war if we are to ensure that our goals remain just."</p><p>He exhales a quiet laugh at her response, leaning back to appraise Edelgard. His eyes trail down to the easter porcelain before offering it to her. She accepts gratefully, holding the trinket close to her chest. </p><p>"Gilded and golden on the outside, but no different from anyone else on the inside, huh?" he asks. "A porcelain egg is a strange place to draw guidance from, but it doesn't change my answer."</p><p>His words are purposefully cryptic, uttered around the curve of a sly grin. It's a far cry from the frowns she has seen carved into his features, and the bright amusement in his smile reaches his eyes, glittering like the pearls that stud the center of her trinket's golden chamomiles.</p><p>"Is that so?"</p><p>He smirks in response. "I already told you that I don't care to be tested," he replies airily. "My blade belongs to your army."</p><p>"And you?"</p><p>He laughs, louder and clearer than she could have expected from him.</p><p>"I'm here, aren't I? That's as good as belonging to your cause." Felix opens his mouth to say more, only to close it, pausing to roll the words around his tongue. "It's..."</p><p>"Not a bad one?" she finishes wryly. The sharp curve of his smirk loosens, settling into something more serious. His brow remains relaxed though, and Edelgard can't help but note that the serenity is becoming. </p><p>"A fair one," he decides. "One that Fódlan's people will be lucky to see."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>you can also find me on <a href="https://twitter.com/panntherism">twitter</a>! :D</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>